


May Day

by m_class



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Humor, Original Character(s), Party, may day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_class/pseuds/m_class
Summary: A short fic set in the world of subspacecommunication's DSC AU!The crew of the USS Shenzhou gathers for a celebration. Cupcakes, dancing, and hijinks abound.





	May Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subspacecommunication (nattherat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nattherat/gifts).



> This fic is set with permission in subspacecommunication's DSC alternate universe, which aims to create what might have happened if "Star Trek: Shenzhou" had been a show on air in the 1970s. Their AU includes some alien redesigns--including Saru as a giant ant dude, and the character in the tactical computer helmet as a robot--and further re-imagining of the characters and plot.  
> The AU is laid out in the [ssc dsc au](http://subspacecommunication.tumblr.com/tagged/ssc-dsc-au) tag of [subspacecommunication's blog](http://subspacecommunication.tumblr.com), and will also be the backbone of their upcoming zine! The main AU things to know for this fic (which is actually also canon-compliant in a lot of ways, since it takes place a good few years before events of DSC) are pretty much just that Three-Three is the robot, and she's a mischievous force to be reckoned with, especially when combined with the equally disruptive Keyla. SSC's [post on Three-Three is here](http://subspacecommunication.tumblr.com/post/167816415331/33-three-three-chief-tactical-officer-aboard) and [here's Three-Three and Keyla together](http://subspacecommunication.tumblr.com/post/167847699381/conn-officer-keyla-detmer-has-lunch-with-the), and [here's the Shenzhou crew](http://subspacecommunication.tumblr.com/post/166757177616/here-they-are-in-tiny-doodle-glory-starfleets).  
> The interpretations of the rest of the cast are out of my head based on canon, as are the other minor OCs.  
> And finally, this is all me playing in someone else's sandbox, and isn't itself part of the AU (an AU of an AU, as it were...)

“How big of a circle are we clearing?”

Lieutenant Januzzi gestures toward the mess hall serving bar. “Gant wants thirty people to be able to dance in two concentric rings. So, bigger.”

Doctor Nambue stacks another two chairs on top of each other, carrying them towards the corner of the room. “This is going to be quite the party.”

“Don’t be silly, Doc,” Januzzi grins, and earns an eye roll from everyone in earshot as he continues, “ _Every_ day on the USS Shenzhou is a party.”

The crew of the Shenzhou, many of whom have served together on the ship for several years, are accustomed to celebrating the holidays of the mosaic of species, cultures and religions brought aboard by their diverse complement. However, Kamran Gant, a member of the crew for ten Earth months, suggested several weeks before that an already-scheduled upcoming party be combined with a celebration of one of his favorite holidays from home, May Day. It was, he explained to rest of the crew, a time to celebrate the coming of spring--which is indeed currently arriving to the Northern Hemisphere of Earth, even if it won’t be putting in a climatary appearance on the Shenzhou--by raising a pole with colorful ribbons and flowers, dancing around the maypole, and enjoying various other festive activities such as eating sweets, making flower garlands, and crowning a May Queen.

Now, Lieutenant Saru is carefully placing trays of cupcakes onto the bright floral tablecloths Ensign Lila provided for the occasion. The handful of party planners, including most of the Shenzhou’s bridge crew, have kicked everyone but one ensign finishing their snack in the corner out of the mess hall to begin preparation, and the room is slowly beginning to transform for the party.

Michael Burnham, looking weary, stands bracing the maypole as Gant crouches at the base to adjust the screws holding the pole in place, jumps up and trots backwards to gauge whether the pole is leaning one way or another, then bends down to adjust it again. And again.

“Can someone heeeelp Kaaamraaaaaan?” Detmer calls out, walking by them with a box of ribbon.

Captain Georgiou, who was particularly enthusiastic about weaving a new holiday celebration onto the ship, and has been bustling around the mess hall humming for the last half hour, dives for the stand. Gant backs up once more, stands scrupulously still, puts his hand over one eye, and squints.

“Which way?

“A little to the left.”

“Now?”

“A little more to the left.”

“Now?”

“Back to the right. Just, just, _slightly_.”

“Now?”

“Perfect.”

Connor, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, is very carefully attempting to clamp a portable fan to a box stacked on top of another box stacked on top of a chair at the correct angle to gently blow the maypole’s ribbons back and forth after it is finished. Next to him, Detmer and Three-Three are cutting the perfect number of ribbons to length.

“Think we need more pink?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“All right then.” Keyla measures three armspans. “Hand me the scissors.”

“You have your own scissors.”

“Those are better.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Keyla sticks her tongue out at her co-decorator, and carefully snips the pink ribbon at an angle. “So, got some tunes picked out for us to May Day the night away?”

“Mr. Gant has selected some _traditional_ Earth music for the maypole dance,” Three-Three responds, making it clear exactly what she thinks of this music. “Fortunately, I have something that’s loud enough to hear for later.”

Keyla grins. “And loud enough that no one else _can_ hear?”

“That’s between you and your sensitive organic eardrums.” Three-Three passes Keyla the scissors again to cut a short piece of purple ribbon to tie onto the hoop at the top of the pole, then takes them back to cut the last lengths of yellow.

“Oh, look. They’re fussing with the angle again.” Keyla rests her chin in her hand, grinning with exasperated affection at Gant and Januzzi, who are both crouched at the base of the pole, apparently arguing about whether the angle of the deck is affecting the maypole, and if that’s even possible on gravity plating the way it would be planetside.

Three-Three neatly snips a final piece of blue ribbon, leaving only a handspan left on the spool, and regards the rainbow of finished ribbons, hanging together in readiness over the back of a mess hall chair, with satisfaction.

“Hey, Three-Three.” Keyla has peeled the remaining scrap of blue ribbon off the spool, and waggles it in front of Three-Three’s visual sensors so that the place where the ribbon was glued to the spool catches the overhead light. “It’s _sticky_.”

***

“The cupcakes,” Saru says firmly, “are for later.”

“Saru, we’re the party preparation team,” Michael points out. “It’s an important task. We need energy.”

“You ate lunch.”

“Cupcakes are rich in oils and sucrose, Saru. They’re the perfect food to keep us going on this important mission.”

Saru looks unconvinced. Michael stares back at him plaintively. “It’s a May Day mayday, Saru! This is _urgent_.”

Nambue, overhearing, grins to himself. He remembers the days when Michael’s Vulcan upbringing prevented her from saying anything that wasn’t strictly factual. _Well, strictly facture from her perspective, anyway,_ he mentally amends, thinking of a few negative observations that had made him wince when she had voiced them aloud. Now, enough of the Shenzhou crew’s stew of personalities and humor--and her captain’s mischievous attitude--have rubbed off on Michael that here she is, playfully putting party preparation on par with an away mission in order to wheedle sweets.

“Can’t wait another half hour, Burnham?” he asks with a grin.

“The lieutenant informs me that it would be hazardous to jeopardize our strength in the face of such an important task,” Saru informs him drily.

“Well, as ship’s doctor, I can support that assessment.” Reaching forward, he selects a cupcake from the edge of the tray, careful not to disturb the main display.

“Thanks, _Doctor_ ,” Michael grins, grabbing a cupcake and heading for the maypole, where Three-Three and Georgiou have begun tying ribbons onto the ring.

Saru snorts, but reaches for an outlying cupcake as well.

“Oh, and Nambue?” Michael adds, coming to a halt midstride and looking back at him. “Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are.”

Nambue stands staring after her in puzzlement for a moment as she walks away.

Well, Michael doesn’t attend too many Shenzhou parties. Maybe she thinks human celebrations traditionally involves reciting song lyrics, or she’s just trying to get into the spirit of the day. Shaking his head, he walks to greet the first crewmembers arriving for the party.

***

Georgiou stands at the edge of the mess hall, hanging back for a moment to enjoy the site of the gathering warming up. Nearly half of the crew--almost everyone who was free--is in attendance, and the strains of traditional music blend with the rise and fall of her colleagues’ voices.

Most of the crew are gathered in shifting and intermingling circles, enjoying food and drink, but a decent crowd has gathered at the garland table. When Saru heard that Gant’s proposed holiday party included floral arrangements, he had volunteered to run a garland-building table for party guests, and now a dozen crewmembers are already walking around with garlands in their hair, around their necks, or adorning their wrists...

Which reminds her. She’s supposed to be collecting votes for the garland-crowning of the May Queen. Grabbing her bucket and slips of paper, she heads back into the crowd.

***

“And then I said, "But if _you’re_ one, what does that make _me?!"_

The gaggle of crewman clustered near the cupcake table roars with laughter.

“Told that one to the captain?” Nambue asks the orator.

“No, and you won’t either!”

Lieutenant Januzzi is wandering by with a drink in hand, and Nambue gives his friend a cheerful wave over to the chatting group.

“Drink to me ooooonly wi-ith thine eyyyyy-yeees,” Januzzi warbles at him as he approaches.

“Uh, hi,” says Nambue, looking puzzled. “That’s, uh, a neat song, Troy…?”

Januzzi nods to him graciously, ignoring the doctor’s puzzlement.

“Cast your ballot for May Queen yet, Troy?” Ensign Lila asks.

“Yes. Did all of you?” The circle nods.

Crewman Ndukari lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Who do you think will be crowned?”

Before anyone can answer, Gant claps his hands loudly from the middle of the room, where he is standing on a chair beside the precarious fan tower. “Who’s ready for a dance?”

***

After a few traditional rounds around the maypole, Georgiou climbs onto the Master of Ceremonies Chair, unfolding a piece of paper with a flourish.

“Thank you to all of you for attending the Federation Ship Shenzhou’s inaugural May Day celebration! And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for...the crowning of the May Queen!”

On cue, Burnham steps forward, holding a flower garland. Although most of her countenance is as calm as usual, the young Human-Vulcan lieutenant’s face is lit up by a slight half-smile.

“Lieutenant Saru, please step forward.” Georgiou is smiling widely as Saru, looking not entirely surprised--Michael must have given him some warning eye contact--makes his way from the edge of the crowd to the maypole. “Ladies and gentlefolk, I give you...King Saru, garland-maker extraordinaire and 2254 May Queen of the USS Shenzhou!” Michael, now grinning outright as well, passes the garland up to Georgiou, who lowers it onto Saru’s head as he beams in unguarded delight.

As the applause dies down and the crew disperses once more into chatting groups, Three-Three is given the go-ahead to initiate her less-traditional playlist, with the caveat that it be kept at a level permitting conversation (“Not quite a rave, Ensign”), and Ndukari and Connor begin clearing chairs to make a wider dance floor. As the stars shine in through the viewports and someone adjusts the lighting from sunlamps to simulated dusk, crewmembers sway, jump and shimmy together in the center of the hall, dance moves from a multitude of cultures interrupted only briefly when someone boogies into Connor’s fan tower, sending it crashing onto the tarp cushion Saru has presciently placed under its leaning side.

“We did make a damn fine maypole, didn’t we?” Keyla asks happily, leaning against the refreshment table and looking out over the festivities.

“Resplendent,” Lila agrees.

“This really was a taste of home.” Gant smiles. “Thanks for helping make this happen, everyone.”

“Of course.” Nambue reaches for another cupcake, grinning. “A holiday without a party is an unpardonable missed opportunity on the USS Shenzhou.”

“Commander?”

Captain Georgiou has come up from behind Nambue, and he automatically straightens at the sound of her formal address.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down!” Philippa sings, “never gonna run around and desert you!”

Keyla joins in, and the two continue, volume rising, “Never gonna MAKE you CRYYY, never gonna SAAA-aay good-BYE, never gonna TELL a liii-iiie and HURT YOU!”

The captain and the helm officer both end the stanza in dramatic poses, Philippa with her palm out and eyes closed as she tosses her head away dramatically, while Keyla points at Nambue with her other hand clasped to her heart.

 _“Why are you cretins all doing this?!”_ Nambue wails, turning back and forth to the gathered circle of crew. One too many pairs of eyes glance significantly just over his shoulder and, scrabbling at the back of his uniform jacket as his colleagues howl with laughter, Nambue rips off a scrap of blue ribbon, bringing it around in front of his eyes to read in scrawled block letters:

SING TO ME

***

“Well, that seemed very successful,” Georgiou says, bending over to pick up a stray streamer from the floor beside the serving counter.

“Thanks again for giving a shipboard May Day celebration a chance, Captain,” says Gant, walking over to meet her with the recycling bag.

“Thank you for suggesting it, Mr. Gant. I cannot overstate how important it is for a starship crew to have chances to celebrate together. And to learn more deeply about the places each of us call home.”

“Captain, we’re nearly finished cleaning up,” Saru cuts in, bustling over to Georgiou as Gant wanders away, looking as though he is floating on air. “You really don’t need to be picking up torn streamers! We can take it from here.”

“Saru, _you’re_ the May Queen. If anything, _you_ should be relaxing.”

“ _Cap_ tain--”

Michael is watching them, a smile on her face, when Nambue walks up to her, wiping away a bead of sweat from unstacking chairs.

“So, Three-Three and Keyla, huh?”

She gives him her best neutral expression. “Three-Three and Keyla…?”

“So, Three-Three and Keyla, huh?” he repeats, spearing her with an _I’m-not-having-any-of-it_ look.

Michael sighs, then grins. “Indubitably.”

“What’s the next party coming up?”

“May birthdays. Three and a half weeks away.”

“Three and a half weeks, hmm?” Nambue smiles mischievously. “Plenty of planning time.”

“‘Planning time?’”

“Turnabout’s fair play on the USS Shenzhou. ‘Sing to me,’ eh?” He winks at Michael as he heads for the door. “It’s _on_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here is [the art that inspired May Queen Saru!](http://subspacecommunication.tumblr.com/post/170205293831/so-i-was-asked-some-time-ago-to-show-sarus)


End file.
